


To the Sheik of Flowers

by fringeperson



Category: Naruto
Genre: Arabian Nights AU, Don't copy to another site, Harem, I will not be ashamed of old fic just becasue it's old and I'm a better writer now, Multi, Old Fic, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut, none of them are ninjas in this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-11
Updated: 2020-11-11
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:48:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27498952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fringeperson/pseuds/fringeperson
Summary: Sakura's harem gains a new member.~Originally posted in '10
Relationships: Aburame Shino/Haruno Sakura, Aburame Shino/Temari, Gaara/Haruno Sakura, Haruno Sakura/Hatake Kakashi, Haruno Sakura/Hyuuga Hinata, Haruno Sakura/Inuzuka Kiba, Haruno Sakura/Kankurou, Haruno Sakura/Temari, Hyuuga Hinata/Inuzuka Kiba
Kudos: 49





	To the Sheik of Flowers

He was to be a gift, the buyer said as he stepped down from the auction stage, and when he arrived at his – at least temporary – owner's residence – and judging by the easily collapsible nature of the abode he guessed that they were probably a merchant or wanderer of some kind. Though he was honestly hard-put to learn anything else about them, even their gender. They were fully covered from neck to wrist and ankle with a turban on their head. The clothing left no idea to a figure of any kind but that it was thin, and despite that the seemingly ageless face was uncovered it seemed to allude to both genders equally, so that he had no idea.

"You will call me Sire," the buyer informed him in a sweet voice that could have been a mature woman's or a young man's, and still he had no idea what his buyer was.

"Yes Sire," he answered, bowing. What did it matter anyway?

"You are to be groomed in readiness for your presentation in one week's time to the Sheik of Flowers. Do you understand, slave?" the Sire demanded sharply, though they seemed more intent on the platter of fruit presented by a nubile slave girl wearing sheer grey clothes.

"Yes Sire," he answered again, forcing himself to not look at the barely covered girl. It was difficult, as she was attractive, but he was not new to his slavery, and knew correct behaviour.

The Sire snapped heavily jewelled fingers and an older woman, more modestly dressed than the girl, as befitted her advanced years, stepped into the tent, bowing deeply.

"My Sire?" she said softly.

"This will be our gift to the Sheik of Flowers. He is in your charge for the journey, prepare him and make sure he doesn't do anything," the Sire ordered.

The woman deepened her bow before rising and gesturing for him to follow her.

Obediently, he did so.

"You are too thin, and with not enough musculature," the older woman said firmly as she forced him to sit and eat in another, less lavish tent. "In the early hours before we break camp, you will be trained with the Sire's guard so that you will be correctly proportioned to your height. In the evenings when we make camp, you will undergo beauty treatments. You will not be permitted to reflect poorly on the Sire at your presentation to the Sheik. You may sleep during the day as we travel."

The week of travel went exactly as he had been told by the older woman, and when he found himself with nothing else to occupy him, he wondered who the Sheik of Flowers was, and what they were like that the Sire considered a slave an appropriate gift for travelling through the lands that the Sheik owned.

"You may approach the Sheik," stated a muscled Ethiopian man, a frown on his face as he sneered at the Sire, as well as the 'gift'. The Ethiopian wore only red pants that were deliberately – and likely comfortably – loose and cut off at his knees, a pair of quality leather sandals, the turban of those whose heads were shaved, and his left ear was pierced proving him to be a slave.

The Sire approached and knelt, bowing deeply to the curtains that must have hidden the Sheik.

"A thousand blessings be granted to you, oh Sheik of Flowers," the Sire said, remaining prostrate, "I bring a gift for your greatness, a token of my gratitude for being permitted travel through your finest of territories," the Sire removed a small chest from their satchel and laid it on the ground between them.

Another slave, a girl, took the small chest from the floor and brought it to the Sheik behind the curtain, leaning forward slightly before bowing her head and turning to the Ethiopian, laying her hand on his arm to whisper to him.

The large man smirked.

"The Sheik says the gold is pretty, and appropriate for your travel through the territory. The Sheik enquires, however, if you have remembered the date," the black man said.

The Sire bowed the turbaned head further.

"The Sheik's birthday," the Sire answered. "For such a great occasion, I have another gift. Slave, approach."

He stepped forward, stopping just behind the Sire and humbled himself deeply before the curtains he could not see through.

The Ethiopian slave turned to look towards the curtains, and must have been able to see something through the draperies, because he nodded, turned, and spoke once again to the Sire.

"The Sheik of Flowers grants you permission to do business for the fortnight you may linger. You may go. The Sheik understands that you will not need a guide."

The Sire rose, and turned to go. The girl who had presented the chest of gold appeared between the Sire and the entrance of the Sheik's receiving room.

"I shall escort the gift to a temporary cell," she said, head bowed.

The Sire nodded and exited.

The girl's hand on his arm indicated that he was to stand, and he silently followed her out of the room as well.

"What will you do with this one majesty?" he heard the Ethiopian ask just as the door was closing behind him.

Another girl, only just becoming a woman, brought him a plate of food shortly after he had been deposited in the cell, and he had accepted it with silent thanks.

"Is your tongue cut out?" the girl asked curiously.

"No," he answered softly.

The child nodded and left him to himself again.

He waited in silence and stillness until the door of his cell was opened again. It was the Ethiopian.

"The Sheik has the time to consider you now," he said.

Nodding, he rose and followed, a pale shadow of the great man who was leading the way, and noticed as he passed a window that the moon was rising over the desert sands now. He hadn't realised that so much time had passed.

Eventually the Ethiopian opened a door, but did not enter it, only indicating for him to go in.

He did so, but did not go further in beyond the door.

"Approach me," a voice said, clear and commanding, and coming from the centre of the room, where many sheer silks hung from the ceiling in gossamer curtains.

He shuffled forward obediently, as he had learned was proper through his many years as a slave of various owners. Most of whom had sold him to pay for their gambling habits, rather than because he had displeased them.

Reclining on the pile of cushions and with the drapes framing her, was one more beautiful than the women he had seen who were being sold as pleasure slaves, and they were all highly attractive.

"I am the Sheik of Flowers," the beautiful woman said.

He instantly folded until he was kneeling and had his forehead on the floor.

"Do you have a name?"

"Kakashi, oh greatest of Sheiks," he said into the floor.

"And where are you from? You are not of this country, that is clear."

"Further to the East, oh greatest of Sheiks."

"Stand Kakashi, I want a better look at you."

He rose, and when his dark eyes caught sight of the Sheik of Flowers once more, his breath caught in his chest. His first impression of her – that she was more beautiful than any of the pleasure slaves he had ever seen – did not do her justice. She had perfect dark-ivory skin – a rare thing in the desert, were nearly everybody had skin at least as dark as the shifting orange-brown sands – and though her body was not as exposed as the bodies of the slave girls, what he could see appeared toned and firm, as though she did activities more strenuous than sitting and entertaining travellers. Her ankles and wrists were delicate, accentuated by the jewels she wore on them. Her face was perfectly heart-shaped with shockingly green eyes – another rarity. The most stunning of all was that the cascades of pink around her, that he had initially believed to be her veil loose around her, was actually her hair. It fanned above her and flowed around her, down almost to her ankles.

"Turn around Kakashi," she said.

He blinked, mentally shaking himself, and did as he was bid. She was the Sheik of Flowers, he was a slave. He would never touch her beauty.

"Face me again."

He would never touch her beauty, and he would not be distracted from whatever tasks she gave him because of the beauty he would never be permitted any closer to than he was at that moment.

The Sheik of Flowers smiled at him.

He bit his tongue and focused on the pain, bowing his head before her.

"Approach me, Kakashi," she said.

He could taste the blood in his mouth, but still he was growing hard under her impossibly green gaze. He took two steps forward, stopping with still a dagger's length between himself and the curled toes of her slippers, which were the most forward part of her as she reclined before him.

"When you were not labouring for your previous owners, what did you like to do with your time?"

"I enjoy reading when I can, oh greatest of Sheiks," he managed to answer, staring at his own toes. To watch hers would probably not help.

"How convenient, I have been gifted many books over the years, and they are not organised in any sensible way. Your main task during your days here shall be to organise and care for my growing library," she said.

He almost forgot himself and looked up to gape, but he held himself in check. "I am most honoured, oh greatest of Sheiks," he said, remembering his eternal place, and it truly was an honour for any slave to be given the charge of their master's books, a treasure of equal value to gold and precious stones.

"Your secondary task will be my entertainment," she continued, "and protection as required. I can see that Sai made sure you were capable of that much."

Sai? Perhaps that was the name of the Sire who had bought him as the Sheik's gift. What did she mean, entertainment?

"Approach me Kakashi," she said, "tonight I think that you will be the husband I share my bed with."

 _Husband?_ His head snapped up in surprise, his jaw hanging unceremoniously open.

The Sheik of Flowers was smirking at him.

"I am certain you have served others before me, Kakashi. Men with many wives and concubines. I am not so different from any of the other Sheiks, despite the rarity of my gender in such a position. Like them, I keep many to my bed," she informed him, reaching a slim, beautiful hand up to him, inviting him to lie with her.

He swallowed heavily.

"Oh greatest of Sheiks, I- I am honoured..." he stammered, stepping hesitantly nearer. He had seen many attractive women, but he was a man of only twenty years, fifteen of which had been spent in slavery. He had never touched a woman before.

"I see," she said, a soft, almost motherly smile sifting onto her face, though she still held out her hand. "Help me stand Kakashi, I shall take you to meet my other husbands, and we shall teach you."

He swallowed and obediently held out his hand to the woman, gently tugging her up when she clasped her hand in his. She landed lightly on her slipper-clad feet, and did not withdraw her hand from his, but rather towed him after her through the room to a door on the far side, hidden from view by a heavier curtain than the ones which had surrounded her.

The Sheik of Flowers gave him a coy smile as she opened the door and tugged him in.

"Hola! Look chaps! Our beautiful Sheik is with us tonight!" a voice boomed happily.

"We get to celebrate her birthday," another voice joined in, quieter, sounding content.

"Thought the dickless wonder gave her a present though," a third voice quipped, curious.

The Sheik of Flowers laughed brightly, rounding a sheer curtain and revealing four men, and two women, which surprised Kakashi even more than the idea of being one of many husbands.

"Hello everybody," the Sheik said, releasing Kakashi's hand and moving forward to the six figures, accepting and returning kisses and caresses with all of them, even the two women.

"Is this your birthday present from the Sire?" asked the smaller of the two women who seemed to be part of this strange harem. She had eyes that looked blind, only white, but they were clearly looking at him.

"That's right."

"Dickless has good taste," the other woman, with eyes the same violet-black as the white-eyed girl's silky-looking locks. Her own hair was sandy-blond and, though well groomed, was still bushy and hung thickly.

The Sheik hummed happily, and accepted kisses to the corners of her mouth from both of the other females before extending her hand to a man wrapped up in black clothes and with what was likely paint upon his face in strange patterns.

"Why haven't you greeted me yet?" she asked.

The painted man smiled. "I was waiting my turn," he answered, slipping a hand over her hip and nosing at her cheek. The supposed paint didn't smear. It was tattooed there. His voice was different to the ones that had spoken before.

"This is Kakashi," the Sheik of Flowers told the group, the harem, slipping free of the black-robed man and lying down on a very large plush bed, holding her hand out to him and gesturing for him to approach her. "He is going to care for my books."

He stepped forward, but did not know what else to do. This goddess, he thought, was going to do that to him a lot until he learned his depth.

"I'm Kiba," said one of the men, and he recognised the voice as the one that had called out first, "and I care for our Sheik's animals," he added. He had a usual complexion for the desert – sun-kissed olive skin and brown hair, which strangely was not covered or oiled in any way. He did however wear grey cotton clothing and quality sandals. His smile revealed large canine teeth, almost like fangs.

"I am Shino, I care for our Sheik's hives," said a man with the same voice as the one that had spoken second. He wore sunglasses, though the room was lit only with the soft glow of oil lamps, and his feet and chest were bare, his only other clothing a pair of loose brown pants.

The man who Kakashi had thought was painted spoke up next. "I'm Kankuro," he said smirking. "I am in charge of our Sheik's guard. My brother Gaara is our Sheik's architect," he added, gesturing to a red-haired young man who wore brown and cream robes and sashes.

The red-head looked Kakashi up and down with pale green eyes. "You will consult me if you find you need more space for our Sheik's books," he said. That was the third voice he had heard.

"Temari is their older sister," the Sheik said, gesturing to the woman with blond hair.

"I'm in charge of the aviaries," the woman stated, "when I'm not busy here."

"I was most fortunate to have been given the siblings for my sixteenth birthday, they are delightful," the Sheik said, something dark and sinfully pleased in her tone that made every man in the room shiver, and the two other women catch their breath.

"Dickless has good taste," the blond, Temari, said again.

"My last flower here is Hinata, who plays music and organises feasts for my household," the Sheik said, holding her hand out to the white-eyed woman.

"So why did you come to us tonight when you have been gifted such a fine looking specimen?" Shino asked as he slid down to kiss at the Sheik's feet.

"I think he's a virgin," the Sheik answered simply, smiling at Shino and running her long-fingered hand over his thick brown hair.

Every head snapped up to view him again, distracted from their Sheik by her statement.

Temari and Hinata smiled softly.

"Oh, the poor dear, and to suddenly be plunged into this situation. It must be quite a shock," Hinata cooed, hiding her smile behind a henna-ed hand before approaching him and taking one of his hands in both of hers. "Come," she said.

"We shall teach you gently," Temari added, taking his other hand, and he was brought to the bed where the Sheik waited, each of her limbs now being kissed or stroked by a different man.

"Kiba, let Kakashi take your place. I know that you really want Hinata, and I adore the children you bring to this house," the pink-haired heavenly being said, bidding him to go to the other woman who had been about to start lapping at her stomach.

The man who had been gently kissing her knuckles suddenly acquired a wild look in his eye and was gone from his place in an instant, wrapping his arms around Hinata's waist and kissing her lips fiercely, picking her up and taking her to another door that Kakashi had not seen. Behind that door was another bed, upon which Kiba lay Hinata, and there he proceeded to strip both her and himself before making sweet, passionate love to her.

Temari giggled and, leaving Kakashi to sit at the Sheik's hand, took place as her pillow.

"They were already married when they were given to me," the Sheik of Flowers told Kakashi softly, though her eyes were fixed on the passionate couple. "Any other sheik would have thought nothing of separating them, sending Kiba to work his land and keeping Hinata for his own harem, and they knew this when they were presented to me, and Hinata was frightened to lose Kiba. Since, Hinata has borne four children for Kiba, and I treat them as though they were mine, as I have Temari's when Shino has been given his chance with her."

"I do not understand, except that you are the most gracious and greatest of Sheiks," Kakashi said torn between watching the couple who were happily divesting each other of their clothing before him, and that he had been granted the chance to truly touch the vision who owned his very life.

The Sheik of Flowers did not act as though she had heard him, but rather turned her gaze to the barely-dressed man who was slowly kissing his way up her left leg.

"Shino, if you wish to enjoy Temari tonight, I suggest you skip my thigh and get straight to where I want you most," she instructed.

Immediately the man was lying pressed to the leg he had been kissing and unwrapping her lower garment, kissing her exposed navel as he did so. It wasn't long before Kakashi learned that pink was definitely the Sheik's natural colour, and Shino was burying face and fingers in her increasingly moist flower.

Temari watched hungrily as Shino 'worked', the Sheik of Flowers only gasping, panting, and occasionally moaning in pleasure until she cried out, becoming momentarily rigid before relaxing as though boneless.

"Wonderful, as always," she complimented as she hummed in pleasure, her green eyes flicking down to where Shino was still perched between her legs, lapping gently at her remaining juices, though his eyes – revealed now, his black glasses discarded to another part of the bed – were fixed upon her face. "Yes, I think you may have Temari, but you shall have to crawl over me to reach her."

Shino eagerly rose, kissing his way up her torso, nuzzling his way up the cloth covered flesh until he reached her neck, which he also kissed up, along her jaw, but when he could have taken her lips Temari took his chin in hand, intercepting and stealing the kiss that waited there.

"Thank you Shino," the Sheik said happily. "Once I have that kiss from Temari, you may go."

Temari laughed and, bending over the Sheik, kissed her upside down and soundly, tongues dancing between them, before they released each other and Temari rose from her place and walked away from the bed, Shino already waiting for her by a curtain.

"She needs genuine satisfaction as well. Her brothers can't do it, and Kiba is hard put to not cry Hinata's name at the best of times," Sakura explained to Kakashi, smirking.

He blushed.

Gaara, who had been massaging the Sheik's other leg was now working his way up to Shino's previous position, and Kankuro was working on removing her upper garment.

"Do as I do," he said to Kakashi when the Sheik was finally completely nude before them.

It took a moment for the words to register in his mind, and a moment more before he realised that Kankuro was lowering his face to kiss, nip and lick around the breast nearest to him.

Kakashi swallowed, but set his nerves aside and fell to worshipping her body with his mouth.

"G-Gaara," the Sheik panted. "Shi-Shino already readied me there. The- the other – I will take you all three tonight."

Gaara looked up and caught her eye over the heads attacking her chest. He nodded once and lowered his head once more.

"AH!" she jolted into all three of them, hands gripping at the sheets beneath her. "K-Kankuro... g-go... nn... lower, l-let Ka- AH! - let Kakashi l-learn ha-ha-ha-how," she said, moaning and panting as she spoke.

Kankuro nodded and descended her body, slipping a hand behind her to help her sit, and she clung to Kakashi's hair as the black-clad man took position behind her.

He was unsure, and let her guide him where she wanted him with her hands threaded into his hair, unaware that Gaara and Kankuro were both now behind her, and he was kneeling between her legs. When she pushed his pants down and palmed him though, he knew it.

"In, now," she demanded, pulling him forward by his hips until he could feel her damp heat against him. "AH! Yes, so g-good, Ga-Gaara, K-Kankuro... deeper!"

Behind her, Gaara and Kankuro were both slowly penetrating her rear hole, their lengths side by side and slicked with juices Gaara had collected in his palm from when he had been in front of her.

Kakashi slipped his tip in when she tugged him in the right direction, and when she squeezed his hip and moaned, he found himself swallowed whole by her, and he choked on his breath, unable to move for a moment, feeling her petals against his sack, and very conscious of the men on the other side of her, working her there.

It was impossible to not see the expression on her face in that moment, and he desperately wanted to kiss her lips, but no one else had, though the girls had touched the corners, and he wondered if he would be permitted. The decision was made for him when her eyes met his and, grabbing the back of his head, she forced his mouth against hers, quickly plunging her tongue into his mouth. He did his best to keep up with her hungry demands while thrusting and pumping within her heavenly form.

She tore her lips from his and screamed, a deep, guttural, pleasured scream as she reached her pleasured peak again, clenching around all three of the shafts within her, begging them to come within her at that moment so that she could be filled.

Kakashi readily obliged, unable to hold out or grit his teeth any more against the momentous occurrence. Gaara and Kankuro both screamed as they pulsed within her also, a hand of each of them clutching to and fondling a breast.

When all four of them collapsed in a sweating, boneless, post-orgasmic, blissful heap, panting and exhausted by their pleasure, the Sheik of Flowers smiled contently as the man on top of her fell asleep.

"It looks like we wore him out," she said fondly to the other two.

"It is just his first time," Gaara pointed out.

"He'll learn to last longer," Kankuro assured.

"Now, oh flower of our hearts," Gaara said smiling as he shifted around and withdrew from the Sheik's rear. "Shall we let him rest and give you a birthday gift you won't be able to remember in the morning?"

The Sheik of Flowers smiled at her first husbands, nodding gladly. She had been with them and their sister for the longest, and they knew her body better than any of the others. These two also had genuinely come to love her over their many years together, and she them.

Kankuro lifted Kakashi and moved him to another pile of cushions, covering him and leaving him there, while Gaara lifted their ruler and took her to another room where he and his brother would endeavour to make love to the pink haired woman until dawn began to peek through the windows.


End file.
